Not Too Late
by tess4aria
Summary: Sevitus. Snape's memories reveal more than Harry could ever have imagined. DH final battle/ epilogue non-compliant. Lily/Sev
1. Memories

_**Not Too Late to Live**_

_**Part 1: Memories**_

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><p>Two-shot (possibly three-shot) Severitus-ish. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think!<p>

Harry Potter belongs to J.K.

_**Please R&R~! Thanks so much!**_

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><p>OoOoO<p>

The battle was in full swing, within the walls of Hogwarts and without. As Harry raced up the main staircase, he felt the telltale whirl of magic that was a hex heading straight for him. It never connected, though, and as he continued barreling through the hallways, he couldn't help but notice the number of hexes which seemed to be missing or glinting off of him as if he were high on a bottle of Felix Felicis. Not for the first time, particularly this harrowing and frustrating year searching for the Horcruxes, he had the feeling that someone was watching him, protecting him, from the shadows.

But as usual, when he turned around, there was no one to be seen. He blinked. For a moment, he could have sworn he saw the hem of a billowing black cloak sweeping out of sight. But he had no time to follow up his suspicions. He had to get the Diadem. He could worry about this enigmatic protector of his later.

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><p>OoOoO<p>

Harry stared in shock and horror at the fresh, gouged wound in Snape's neck, absently accepting the vial Hermione conjured to collect the silvery miasma spilling from the man's pores.

The always intimidating, and often cruel, man he had hated at times more than anyone save Voldemort lay there on the dirty, rotting wood floor of the Shrieking Shack, and he was very clearly dying. And Harry didn't know what to feel, but disbelief.

"Look…at…me…" Snape's voice was quiet and raspy, with a desperation Harry had never heard in it, and without its usual malice. Green eyes met black for a long moment and then one shaky, potion-stained hand reached up and artlessly brushed Harry's cheek.

"Forgive…me…"

Severus Snape then fell into dark unconsciousness, collapsing limp on the sullied ground.

"Harry. Harry!" Hermione tugged at his arm, but Harry felt numb, unable to move or believe what had just passed…

"There's nothing you can do, mate," came Ron's voice.

"We can't leave him," Harry whispered, still staring down at the still figure of his most-hated professor.

"Harry, I'm sorry, but if we don't leave soon, then…" Hermione's voice was quiet but filled with a frantic plea.

Harry, still not moving his gaze from the sallow, blood-coated face below him said, in a surprisingly steady voice, "We're taking him up to the Hospital Wing, Hermione. There's more to this-and him-than we know. I can feel it." His voice was a whisper now, but then, without hesitation, he draped his invisibility cloak over Snape and levitated him up and out of the shack and towards the school.

Harry's memory of their trek to the Hospital Wing was spotty at best.

Ron and Hermione, aware of their friend's singular focus on the body floating invisibly alongside them, managed to keep stray hexes from hitting them and they hurried along and before long, they burst into the familiar white-walled ward.

"Mr. Potter!" Madame Pomfrey shrieked, "What-?"

With a quick movement, Harry snatched his cloak to him, revealing his Professor, and levitated him into a bed. "Please do what you can for him, Madame Pomfrey," he said, ignoring her exclamation at seeing Dumbledore's murderer in her ward. "He was bitten by Voldemort's snake and if there's anything you can do…"

He trailed off, eyes still glued to the still figure but becoming conscious of his friends pulling at his arms. Harry's fist grazed against his pocket and with a surge of renewed purpose he remembered the vial he had stuffed there in the miserable little shack.

Satisfied that Madame Pomfrey had gotten over her momentary shock and was now in full Medinurse mode, Harry cast a meaningful glance around before pulling his father's invisibility cloak over his shoulders and running out into the hallway, heading for the Headmaster's office.

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><p>OoOoO<p>

The Gargoyle jumped aside when Harry panted out "Dumbledore," a fact which he stored in the back of his mind to examine further later, but he vaguely wondered if someone truly loyal to Voldemort would have chosen such as his password. Unless, of course, Snape had just been gloating over his murder of the man, but his uncharacteristic behavior of minutes prior had spurned a slough of new possibilities in Harry's mind, and the only thing he could think now was that he needed answers.

Pulling out the old, heavy Pensieve, he shakily poured in the memories and, taking a deep breath, plunged in.

And then Harry saw the man who had taught him for six years, but without the deceit and facades. He saw him as he was before Voldemort and Spying and the bitterness that had so clearly beat him down for years.

To say Harry was surprised to see his mother, as a little girl no less, featured in Snape's childhood memories would be a great understatement. He watched in shock, joy and fierce regret as he really saw his mother for the fist time-and saw her happy, and full of life and innocence.

And she and Snape had been friends!

Then came the memories of Hogwarts, and he couldn't suppress the twinge of anger and disappointment as he saw the way the Marauders greeted Snape and his mum on the Hogwarts Express. James and Sirius acted far too much like Draco Malfoy had that day for Harry's comfort.

He vaguely wondered whether he would have made a different choice under the Sorting Hat if he had met two arrogant prats boasting about Gryffindor rather than one all for Slytherin on his train-ride to school? Had James and Sirius been partly responsible for Snape ending up in Slytherin?

Unbidden empathy welled up in Harry's chest when he saw the look on Snape's face when Lily was sorted into Gryffindor, but according to the memories, they had managed to stay friends regardless of the fierce rivalry between their houses. Snape didn't really seem to have many (or any) friends in Slytherin, either, but his whole demeanor and expression changed whenever he and Lily would talk or study together. It was hard for Harry to reconcile this shy but hopeful young man with the bitter, cruel adult he had become.

And then came the memory Harry had seen, unintentionally, in Snape's office. Suddenly, it made a whole lot more sense-not least of all, Snape's violent reaction to the bullying, and Lily's attempts to defend him. He also noticed, with great clarity, what he hadn't before: foremost in his mind the look of deep, painful remorse and horror and self-hatred in Snape's eyes after he said _that word_. And the way he looked after Lily as she stalked away almost made Harry blush.

In the next memory, Severus tried to apologize, but Lily wouldn't hear it. When she slammed the portrait hole shut, Harry actually found himself feeling frustrated with her. Couldn't she see the vulnerable position he was in? And how sick he felt about what he'd said?

The next memory seemed to take place a year or so later, and Harry found himself standing beside Snape, who was watching Lily surreptitiously as she walked through the streets of Hogsmeade, laughing and talking to the tall, handsome, outgoing James Potter. Snape stared from the shadows, and then, fists clenched, he turned around and ran away, not noticing how Lily pushed James away when he leaned down to kiss her.

The next memory took place at night, and it might have been a little less than a year later-they would have been seventh years, then, Harry noted. Lily was out on the Astronomy tower, staring at the grounds, when a hesitant voice, finally having cracked to the familiar low and silky tones Harry knew so well, though much softer and gentler than Harry had ever heard the present day Snape speak, said, "Lils?"

She turned around, and tears were rolling down her cheeks, glistening in the moonlight. She gave him a watery smile.

"Lily, what's the matter?" Severus ran forward, only just managing to stop himself from reaching out to grab her.

"Oh, Sev," she said, softly. "I'm so sorry…"

Severus looked gob smacked. "Sorry? For what? You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for! I'm the one who…who…" He grimaced, looking ill, and a haunted look returned to his eyes, but he looked back to meet her gaze earnestly. "I've regretted what I said that day from the moment it left my lips. Please believe me, Lily. I would never, and have never, thought of you as anything less than wonderful, and I-"

He trailed off, blushing, looking shocked at his own admission, but Lily was smiling widely now, a brightness in her eyes overtaking the sadder qualities of her expression. "You mean that, Sev? You think I'm…wonderful?"

"Well, uh…yeah, I mean…of course you are," he said softly. "And I have been sick that I ever hurt you…I…I'm so sorry."

"You've already apologized, Sev. It's my turn, now. I'm sorry…sorry that I never told you I accepted your apology."

Severus' head snapped up at her at this, and he frowned in confusion.

"I forgave you a long time ago, you know…actually, there wasn't really anything to forgive. I was angry, sure, but I knew you would never purposefully hurt me…but even though I knew that, I guess I was…well, scared."

"Scared? You, Ms. Gryffindor?"

"Hard to believe, huh? But yeah. I was terrified, actually, and I was a coward. It did hurt, your words, and even if I knew, deep down, you didn't mean them, even the possibility that you might turn on me like that… I cared for you too much. I still care for you too much…I guess I was scared of having my heart broken."

Snape stared at her, and slowly, disbelief faded to be replaced by hesitant, rapturous understanding. "I would never betray you," he whispered. "But…what about Potter?"

She smiled fondly at him, but with some exasperation. "Oh, well…he likes me. And I do like him, I have to admit it…but, it just isn't…" she trailed off, suddenly blushing.

Then, with a show of bravery Harry would not have credited the man (currently young man) with, for all the years of his being a spy, Severus Snape closed the gap between them, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her on the lips. And she responded.

Harry blushed horribly and quickly turned away, trying to do a detailed study of the moon…it continued on like this for several minutes until he heard a gasp, and then a sound like a wounded animal. He turned, and felt himself going cold.

Lily was clutching Severus' arm, and staring in shock and terrible hatred and betrayal, at the very visible tattoo on his upper arm.

Snape ripped his arm away, hurriedly rolling his sleeve down to cover it, and he looked up to meet green eyes fierce and devastated. He flinched.

"You…liar!" She hissed.

"No, Lils, you don't understand, this isn't-"

"Don't call me that." Her voice was cold, now, and she stepped back. "You're one of them, Snape, just like I feared you were. Didn't you tell me, oh, five minutes ago, that you would never betray me?"

Snape's face was frozen in shock and pain, and he wrung his hands, saying, "I wouldn't! I would never hurt you, Lily!"

"But other muggleborns are fair game? Good sport? Is that what you were going to say, _Snape_? You and your death-eater friends…"

"Please, Lily…just let me explain. I-"

"There is nothing to explain. I thought I could trust you. I was wrong. If you care, at all, for what we once had, never speak to me again. I would rather not spoil and rot my childhood memories even further."

And with that, she was gone, and to Harry's astonishment, Snape folded into himself, collapsing in wracking, painful sobs, pulling at his hair, and punching and rubbing fiercely at the spot on his arm where the dark mark had been visible just moments ago.

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><p>OoOoO<p>

After that, the flow of memories sped up, and the timeline became what Harry was familiar with-Lily and James had gotten together, but Harry could no longer bring himself to feel the sense of them as the perfect couple that he had from all the stories and pictures that had been provided him over the years. And suddenly a new, and crazy thought occurred to him…that if things had gone differently, Lily might have married Severus Snape and the man could have been his…dare he say it…father!

Suddenly, the man's fierce resentment of Harry made a lot more sense, though it also hurt him more, knowing that he could have loved someone so much and hated her son despite (or perhaps, in spite of) that.

But Harry watched as the holes in his understanding, and his questions of why Dumbledore trusted Snape were finally revealed. So Snape had been the one to overhear the prophecy…and then, realizing about whom the prophecy was written, had practically prostrated himself in front of Dumbledore.

The man had pledged himself, his loyalty-everything-to keep Lily Potter nee Evans safe.

And then the horrible memory came of that Halloween night, and Harry watched and listened in astonishment as Snape pledged that he would continue on, Spying and teaching and living, so that he could protect him, Harry, when the time came that he needed to.

Moments of Harry's time as a Hogwarts student, but from Snape's perspective, then flashed by, and Harry could see, besides just the stubborn refusal the Potions Master had to see him in a positive light, just how much Dumbledore was clearly manipulating him, asking him to do things without giving him all the information. So it hadn't just been Harry being pulled along, then. Not that he could say he was surprised.

But he couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore could have done something more to convince Snape that he wasn't just like James Potter? The headmaster seemed to have been rather vague when he spoke of him to Snape after all, spending more energy simply chastising the man like a bad little boy…and as that was something that had always infuriated Harry, he couldn't imagine it working any better on Snape…perhaps if Dumbledore had given him some more facts, or specifics… or perhaps Snape was truly too bitter and closed-off to have listened regardless.

As Harry watched Dumbledore ask that Snape promise to kill him in Draco's stead, Harry felt guilt worm up in his chest for the words he had shouted at the man that night. Severus Snape was no coward. But perhaps Dumbledore, who had asked for a moderately guilt-free and painless end, was?

And Harry had to agree with his potions master. Sure, Draco's soul-his innocence-were being spared, but what of Snape's? For Harry now knew he was not the heartless, soulless man he had once thought he was. He had had potential to be a good person…he _had _been a good person, and he still, despite everything, was. If only things had been different…If only he, Harry, had known…

They were in Dumbledore's office again, and Harry found himself riveted to the spot as he and Snape learned of one more betrayal. One more thing Dumbledore had been keeping from them…

[Dialogue taken from HPDH Chapter 33]

"So the boy…the boy must die?" asked Snape quite calmly.

"And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential."

Another long silence. Then Snape said, "I thought…all these years…that we were protecting him for her. For Lily."

"We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength," said Dumbledore, his eyes still tight shut. "Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth. Sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort."

Dumbledore opened his eyes. Snape looked horrified.

"You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?"

"Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?"

"Lately, only those whom I could not save," said Snape. He stood up. "You have used me."

"Meaning?"

"I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter-"

"But this is touching, Severus," said Dumbledore seriously. "Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?"

"For him?" shouted Snape. "Expecto Patronum!"

From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe. She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears.

"After all this time?"

"Always," said Snape.

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><p>OoOoO<p>

Reeling from the revelation of Dumbledore's betrayal, and of Snape's horror at learning of Harry's fate, he felt the tug of being pulled back into the real world, but then the world once again became blurry, and he found himself entering a new set of memories. He wondered if they had been added later…

Snape was staring at a parchment in the Headmaster's office, his normally stony façade overridden with more emotions than Harry had known it could express. Flashing in those coal-black orbs Harry saw shock, joy, regret, shame, pain, anger and then the usual hard lines returned as Snape continued to stare, unmoving, at the parchment. Intrigued, and wondering just what could have disturbed his professor to this degree, Harry approached the man, but froze when he heard him whisper, "Lily, why didn't you tell me?"

Betrayal and pain laced his words, and Harry bit his lip, suddenly unsure of whether he should look or not. Was it something about him? Or something private between Snape and his mum?

When he rounded the desk, and looked over Snape's shoulder, he froze, his throat constricting and he stumbled back in shock and horror.

It was a birth certificate. And it was his…

Birthdate: July 31st, 1980...

Name: Harry James Potter…

Mother: Lily Anne Evans-Potter…

Father: Severus Tobias Snape…

"No," Harry whispered. It can't…be…" Looking at Snape, somewhat fearfully, but fueled by some-parts anger and resentment, and, impossibly, some strange hope that the man might not look so opposed to the idea, he saw the man still staring numbly at the parchment, his hands shaking.

"It can't be…no…" Snape whispered, unconsciously echoing what Harry had just said, anger etched into his features, and Harry felt his heart drop.

Harry bit his lip and turned, not wanting to hear or see further proof of his utter rejection by the man who had clearly despised him for years, but then Snape continued, raspily, "You bastard, Albus. You knew, and yet you let me treat him like rot all these years?"

And when Harry looked back, heart fluttering in his ears, Snape's face was buried in one long-fingered hand, twin trails of tears visible pouring down his cheeks.

Unbidden, Harry felt his lips lift up slightly, and he felt a strange warmth in the pit of his twisting gut as he gazed at the man who was apparently…insane as it was…his father.

Harry felt as if he were invading a far-too-private moment, but the man had given him the memories to watch, so he figured he had the right to witness this uncommon display of emotion from the man. It was odd, knowing that had he received this information only earlier this evening, he would have been clawing his way up the wall, screaming and bursting in anger, disbelief and hatred for the man.

But after witnessing Snape's memories, and remembering how he'd asked for Harry's…forgiveness…in the shrieking shack, he could not call up feelings of disgust directed towards the man himself.

Rather, he felt his heart filling with anger and regret that they had never had a chance. Their relationship had always been one of purest animosity, but maybe, just maybe, if they had known earlier…things could have been different, and they could have had a real relationship. And _why the hell _had he had to live with the Dursleys if he'd had a perfectly good (well, for the most part) father around, ALIVE, the whole bloody time? Dumbledore, the bastard. Why hadn't he told them? What was he playing at?

Harry noticed another piece of parchment, slightly rumpled, on the desk. It was in an unfamiliar, slightly feminine style.

_Dear Albus, _Harry gasped as he noticed the little lily insignia at the top of the page…could this have been written by…?

_I write you now to ask you to do something which pains me more than I can say, and I know it will be no picnic for you either, dear friend._

_As you know, I have just born a son, Harry. He is absolutely beautiful, and so brilliant, innocent and full of life, I can hardly believe he is mine. He just seems too good, and makes me question my choices and yet, for him, and for those others I love, I must push on and do something impossibly cruel. _

_Albus, James doesn't know…no one knows but I… but Harry isn't James' son. I knew the instant the Medinurse put him in my arms. He looks nothing like James, save for his dark hair. His aquiline features are so unmistakable, there can be no doubt as to who the father is, though of course, I know there is only one other possibility anyway._

_Albus, Harry's father is Severus Snape. I'm sure you remember our friendship. Around the end of our 5__th__ year, I realized my feelings were escalating and deepening past friendship for Sev, but when we fought after our OWLs, I decided to run rather than really make a go at it._

_One night, at the beginning of our 7__th__ year, we expressed our feelings to each other, but then I found he had taken the dark mark and in anger, betrayal and fear for both of us, I cast him away utterly, and ran to James Potter._

_What even Severus doesn't know, and this is one of my greatest regrets, is that we did make up. I wandered into Knockturn Alley one day when I was feeling out-of-sorts, and he whisked me away before I could land myself in any trouble. We spoke for hours, and I confessed that I was not as happy in my marriage as I let on…and that I still loved him, despite everything._

_He told me the same, and told me that he regretted ever joining Voldemort's service-that it was something he did out of loneliness, bitterness and anger at the world-in a last-ditch desire to belong somewhere he would be appreciated for his talents…he told me how quickly he realized how wrong he was, but that Death Eaters did not simply leave. _

_The only escape for him from the Dark Mark was death, and he confessed that he had considered that possibility many times…but for that night, that one, wonderful, delirious night, we pretended that we were free, and that there was no Voldemort, that I wasn't expected to return home to find James and Sirius wasted on the couch…we just saw each other, and then spent every wonderful moment of that night in each other's arms. _

_But when I woke up, I realized that if Voldemort were ever to break through Sev's shields and see what we'd done together, and what he'd confessed to me, that he would be tortured and killed. I couldn't risk it, and so…I obliviated him, leaving him to think we were still at odds, and that I was blissful in my picture-perfect marriage._

_Oh, Albus. I've regretted doing this so many times…I can't tell you how often I've been close to up and leaving, running to Sev, and running off with him to Timbuktu, but I was pregnant, and now I have Harry, and he needs to be safe…and now, with not just Sev, but Harry at risk, too, I just can't let anyone know. And so, I have cast a series of charms over Harry's appearance which will make him take on James' traits, indefinitely, until they are removed. Only his mother or father-Sev or I-can remove them, with our own blood used in a Familia Revelia Potion. But I ask you , Albus, not to let this come to pass. At least not until our world is free of Voldemort. I write you only because I fear I may not make it, but I need you to watch over my boys for me if I cannot. _

_Sev would make a wonderful father, and keeping him from his son is unspeakably evil. That I know, but it is to protect them both that I do this. But please, Albus, if I don't make it, make sure they can discover the truth someday. They need each other. They deserve each other. Severus has been through far too much, and I fear that he, and my little Harry, may both be in for more trials and injustice in the future._

_I have attached Harry's true birth certificate. I had a fake made right after his birth._

_Please watch over my boys, Headmaster. I love them more than life itself._

_Lily Evans_

Floored, Harry noticed that tears were now running down his cheeks. It was a shock, though not entirely unsurprising, that he had a charm over his appearance. That explained his uncanny-almost unnatural-resemblance to James Potter, after all.

To be honest, Harry wasn't sure how to take this information, but he felt a fierce upsurge of compassion and remorse for Snape, knowing that he had reconciled with Lily but never knew it. He also had a fluttery feeling of relief in his chest at hearing his mum's words stating just how much she had loved Sn-his father.

"No more, Albus," Snape was talking again, in a voice just over a whisper. Harry turned to him and saw a fierce determination in the man's eyes as he stood up and clenched his fist. "No longer! Harry and I will not be your pawns any longer!"

And with that, the man swept from the room, and Harry felt a sharp twinge in his chest at hearing Snape say his name-his given name-for the first time, and passionately, without loathing. Harry's heart pounded in his ears as the scene changed, once again.

It was the Forest of Dean, and with a sudden shock of understanding, he saw Snape cast his Doe Patronus, the Patronus Harry now knew was a symbol of his father's undying love for his mother, that lead him, Harry, to the sword after so many weeks of dead-ends and wild-goose-chases.

He watched as Snape gazed fixedly at his memory self as he entered the water, and Harry winced as he remembered the painfully ice-cold water, and the knife-like pain on every inch of him for the duration of his 'swim.'

After about a minute, Snape was fidgeting and then, when near to another thirty-seconds had passed, Snape bounded forward, and without hesitation, dove into the freezing pool. Moments later, the tall, stern man emerged, drenched, clutching an equally wet Harry to his chest, Godric Gryffindor's sword in one hand.

Roughly, Snape undid Harry's shirt and after a moment of struggle, managed to pull out and cast aside the evil locket, and stared at the burned spot on Harry's chest.

He swiftly carried Harry to a soft area hidden behind a patch of trees and set him down, frantically checking his pulse and leaning down to administer mouth-to-mouth. Memory-Harry coughed out some water, and Snape let out a sigh of relief when Harry's breathing returned to normal. Carefully, Snape positioned himself so that Harry was sitting up against his chest, and he quickly muttered warming and drying charms on the shivering young man.

He then pulled out some jars from his cloak and gently began to rub some waxy, oily stuff on the burned spot on Harry's chest. After repeating the circular motion, Harry saw as the mark faded away, and Snape hurriedly buttoned Harry back up.

Harry's heart clenched painfully and in shock as he watched Snape continue to tenderly care for him, gently coaxing him to drink several vials, and draping his own cloak around him like a blanket. Harry had wondered at the time what had happened-who had saved him from the water, and why he felt so much better and healthier than he had in weeks after emerging from it, but he had put it mostly down to getting rid of the Horcrux…and then, he had began to suspect he had someone protecting him…well, now he knew the truth, and he only wished he'd known it sooner.

Harry knelt down beside his memory-self, staring as Snape gently carded his hand through the messy hair and said, in a soft, sad voice, "Harry, I'm so sorry…if I had known… if only I had known, everything would have been different. I'm such a fool. I've been so blind, and I've treated you reprehensibly. You don't have to forgive me. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, but I promise you this, son, I won't let you die. You've been made to think you had to take the world on your shoulders. Well let me tell you…Albus may have played a good game of chess, but he seems to have forgotten that each of his little chess-men is a human being-an individual who may have hopes which extend beyond his great scheme. So I'll tell you what, son, we're going to prove Albus and the Dark Lord and their little Prophecy wrong. Mark my words."

And with that, Snape carried Harry back over to the lake and lay him down carefully, placing the sword to his left. The locket lay where he had cast it off earlier, and he made to approach it when he noticed Ron arriving. Disillusioning himself, he quickly ennervated Harry and whisked back to watch as the boys destroyed the locket.

For a long moment, Memory-Harry looked back into the dark trees where Snape now stood, hidden, and then gave a slight nod and a curious smile before following Ron away.

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><p>Thanks for reading! This is my first Severitus-type story, and there will only be one or two more parts to it. Hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is always VERY much appreciated!<p>

Thanks!

tess4aria


	2. The Battle Ends

**Not Too Late**

**Part 2: The Battle Ends**

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><p><strong>AN: Major Edits! 11/27/11 Please Re-read this (at least the second half)! Thanks!**

Thanks to Tonks-is-cool for pointing out holes in my story.

Anyway, I am overwhelmed by your wonderful reviews. Thank you so much! I'm really glad you've enjoyed this so far.

Here is the second (SUPER LONG) part of _Not Too Late. _There will be one more chapter and an epilogue, as well. Enjoy!

Harry Potter belongs to J.K.

_**Please R&R~! Thank you!**_

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><p>OoOoO<p>

When Harry was thrown from the misty basin out into Dumbledore's office, it took him some time to get his bearings as to whether or not he was truly back in the present. Everything felt surreal, and he had the distinct impression he'd just lived a year in the Pensieve. So many things that he had wondered about his life, and so many things he had never even dreamed of, had been revealed to him since he had entered its smoky depths.

He looked wistfully across the room at the empty seat where he had last seen Snape-his _father_-sitting, clutching his Birth certificate and revealing himself to be more human than Harry would ever have guessed, and a horrible pain and curious desire to cry rose up in his chest. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn't have the time to mourn what might have been. He had to focus on the present and what to do about Voldemort.

Snape had said they weren't going to live by the Prophecy anymore. His _father_ had said he would no longer let Harry get hurt (suddenly, his protector in the hallways of Hogwarts had a solid identity), but what else could he do? He, Harry, had to let Voldemort kill him, just as Dumbledore said. Wasn't that the only way? Snape had said there was another way, but he hadn't explained _what _that was_._

_Dammit…everything's been shot to hell, finally, by that bloody Snake. How ironic, after everything else._

Suddenly, the horrible, high-pitched voice of Voldemort rang through the halls, demanding his immediate presence. Pushing aside his misgivings, Harry left the Headmaster's office after giving it one last wistful glance and made his way quickly towards the Entrance Hall. He felt a pull at several points to change directions and go see Snape in the hospital wing, but he knew he might then be too tempted to take the cowardly path, and just stay by the side of the father he'd never known, hiding away, and to, for once in his life, leave the fight to the others, and be the child he'd never had the chance to be.

Something about this newest revelation had broken something within him. To learn that he had unknowingly had another living parent all this time, and that, before they had had even the slightest opportunity to cultivate something real between them, he had been ripped away from him...the injustice was just too much, and the temptation to run away was leering at him beguilingly.

But no, despite the dark tug of the accumulated resentment in his heart, he couldn't submit to it. He had to force himself not to concentrate on his own problems, to not lose focus. If he had the power to finish things, then he couldn't let himself back out now. They'd all endured too much for him not to go through with it. And so he grit his teeth and set off for the Forbidden Forest, sparing one glance as he sped, under his invisibility cloak, through the battles being fought on the front lawn, for the tower window he knew belonged to the hospital wing. _I'm sorry for not being able to fulfill your wishes. I wish we'd had a chance…but I'll be seeing you soon, anyway, now…Dad._

He walked deeper and deeper into the forest, his jaw set in grim determination, and darkness continued to close in on him. Nervously, he found himself fingering the snitch Dumbledore had given him, and reading the inscription once again, he smiled wryly as its meaning finally became clear to him. And sure enough, the winged-ball opened and a little ring tumbled into his hand.

And then four very familiar people, more substantial than ghosts, but not quite solid enough to be living, materialized before him, and his heart caught in his throat.

They were all watching him intently. Remus and Sirius looking much younger and healthier than they had when he'd last seen them. And then there was James, grinning widely at him and looking not a day over 22-and then, there was his mum, smiling at him with tears burgeoning in her eyes. She was slightly shorter than he, and her red hair framed her face like a fiery halo. Her green eyes bright and loving, she stepped forward, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "My baby. You've been so brave," she whispered.

"M-Mum," Harry croaked, tears beginning to pool in his eyes as well.

"Yes, love. It's me. We've been watching you your whole life, beyond frustrated we haven't been able to do anything for you…"

Harry shook his head. "No, mum, it's…fine, now. I'm here with you guys, now, and soon I'll-"

"No, Harry."

"Huh?" Harry looked at Sirius who had said this. "What do you mean?"

"He means, it isn't your time, yet, son," James answered smiling.

"But…" Harry stared at the man he'd thought to be his father all his life, looking for a clue that he knew the truth and resented him, but there was only affection in James' eyes. Correctly interpreting Harry's discomfort, he sighed and said, "It's okay, Harry. I've known since we died, you know." He shrugged. "I've had plenty of time to get out any frustrations I may have had on your mother," he said lightly, winking at him.

"Oh…" Harry managed, smiling slightly as the messy-haired man's good humour washed over him, relieving him of some of his tension.

"Uh, speaking of, where's, er, my dad?" Harry asked softly, glancing apologetically at James, who just shrugged again. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that Sirius winced and Remus set a placating hand on his shoulder. Lily smiled softly at him. "You'll see, darling. All you need to do is trust him, alright? He promised he'd be there for you, didn't he?"

"But Mum, Nagini bit him and-"

"And you have to trust him." She said firmly. Then she frowned, her eyes filling with regret. "Harry, I'm so sorry…if I'd known how long things would be drawn out, I would have made sure to have prepared something to let him know sooner. I never intended for things to happen this way. I never imagined that my panic and lack of forethought would end up keeping you from each other as I have…I am truly, truly sorry...

"It's...okay, Mum." Harry smiled. "No, really. I'm just glad I know, now. There isn't anything we can do to change the past, anyway, and besides, you were just trying to protect us."

A slightly pained sound to his right had Harry looking hesitantly at Sirius, who had a scowl carved on his face. Harry winced. He hadn't thought about his godfather's reaction. Would he even want anything to do with him now? Harry suddenly felt extremely vulnerable, but forced himself to look his godfather in the eye, saying, "Um, Sirius? Are you okay with-that is, I know I'm not who we thought I was, but…" he trailed off, feeling too nervous to coherently express his fears to the man.

But in a rare show of understanding, Sirius' expression softened as he turned to look at Harry. Unhesitatingly, he smiled and said, "Hey, kiddo, don't you talk that way. You're still the same, great person you always have been. It, er, doesn't matter to me who your uh…f-father…is." Though he sounded pained as he bit out the word 'father,' he looked sincere, and Harry smiled and nodded in relief.

"Thanks, Sirius…I wouldn't have wanted to choose between you…"

"Well...if he treats you well, then I'm…uh…h-happy for you…" Harry noticed Remus giving him an approving look. "But...if that bastard hurts you, Harry, I'm definitely going to kick his ass to hell when he gets here!" Harry laughed at his godfather, who had literally growled his sentiments, sounding very much like the dog he could transform into.

"Okay, Siri," Harry chuckled. "But…I think we'll be okay, now. He's not who I thought he was…"

Sirius grimaced, but grudgingly nodded at a look from the others and Harry turned to Remus. "I'm so sorry, Remus. You were just getting to know your son and…"

Remus smiled sadly at him. "I'm sorry that I won't be there to help him grow up, but I trust you completely, Harry, to make sure his is a better childhood."

Harry nodded at Remus, so comforted by his family's presence that the looming fact that he might not be around for Teddy Lupin didn't cross his mind. Rather, he clasped Remus' almost solid arm and said "I will." And then a pair of ghostly-light arms wrapped around him, and he felt a light kiss on the his cheek. "I love you, Harry," Lily said. Leaning in, she whispered in his ear, "And tell Sev I love him, too, and that I'm sorry…and that he needs to stop blaming himself for everything. It's about time he got back to living."

Harry looked at her in slight confusion but then nodded. "A-Alright, Mum. I will."

"We'll be with you. Just walk forward," James said, and Harry nodded.

He walked along under his invisibility cloak and then with a final, hungry glance at most of his family, he dropped the ring, and revealed himself to the Death Eaters.

* * *

><p>OoOoO<p>

"And now, Harry Potter, you will die," Voldemort hissed. But rather than plead or quake with fear as Voldemort desired, Harry just stood there, waiting for the blow to strike. But just as the snake-faced man began to mutter the incantation, a dark wall materialized between Harry and the forthcoming jet of green light. Before Harry could process what was happening, his wand was ripped from his hand and then a familiar, silky voice shouted "Expelliarmus!"

And then, amazingly, Voldemort's wand sputtered out, and flew into Severus Snape's other hand.

For a moment, thick silence reigned before Voldemort's inhuman face twisted in rage. "You! You _dare! You dare betray me_?"

"I do," Snape answered, voice strong and confident and clear.

Even in his state of shock that the man he had last seen bleeding from a venomous snake-bite to the neck was standing before him, very much alive, Harry felt a fierce welling of giddy pride in his chest that _this _was _his father_, standing between him and Voldemort, and proudly declaring his freedom.

Unable to stop himself from grinning, Harry stepped forward and shouted, "He's _never _been yours, Tom! He's always fought for what's right, and he was brilliant enough to trick you all these years!"

Severus' gaze broke from the inhuman master he had been made to serve for so much of his life to settle on Harry and he felt his heart, which had so long been hardened to human emotion, begin to soften ever so slightly, allowing in feelings he hadn't experienced in years.

To see the boy stand there so defiantly beside him, to defend him to that monster, made his chest clench painfully. These words were coming from his son's mouth. _His son!_ Did Harry truly think that? This rare moment of joy and pride momentarily distracted him, but then he again became fully conscious of their precarious position, and the danger Harry was putting himself in by boldly speaking up for him. No doubt the Death Eaters and Voldemort would soon be getting over their shock at seeing a dead man return and attack shortly.

"Harry, get back," he barked, shoving the boy behind him.

"Oh…Harry, now, is it?" Voldemort smirked viciously. "Well, Snape, you and _Harry_ can die together, then, as you seem so anxious to do so…but first I think I'll give you the pleasure of watching each other twist in pain. Crucio!" Voldemort had taken Bella's wand and cast the unforgivable, but Severus yanked Harry back, roughly, and lifting up the wand he had taken from Voldemort, cast a wide-range stunning spell which knocked every death eater down at once.

"H-how?" Voldemort stared in shock at Severus, and the Potions Master smirked.

"Because you, arrogant as you are to assume yourself privy to every detail of your battles, were unaware that it was not I who disarmed Albus Dumbledore, but Draco Malfoy!"

"What does that Malfoy brat have…" he trailed off.

"And then Harry bested him."

It took only a moment for Voldemort to get over his vague surprise at this revelation. He then smiled malevolently and said, "I should have known. So it all comes down to Potter once again!" He raised his wand, pointing it at Harry.

"But I'm afraid," Severus cut in, placing himself before Harry once again "as I snatched his wand away upon my arrival in this…unfortuitous place…that the Elder Wand's master is now…me. Are you upset, Voldemort?" He ignored the sharp pain in his Dark Mark as he said the name. It gave him an exultant sense of freedom to finally say the bastard's chosen appellation. "That was, after all, why you thought to kill me in the first place…" He smirked.

"You lie!" Voldemort screamed. "Avada Kedavra!"

"Avada Kedavra!" Two beams of green light hit each other, but Snape's quickly overtook the weaker jet of light and then it hit Voldemort in the chest, and in a fashion seeming too anticlimactic for the evil madman, he folded to the ground, a silent scream frozen on his face.

The clearing was so still and silent compared to the chaos of seconds prior that it felt unnatural, the atmosphere tense enough to cut with a knife. After what seemed like several minutes, but was in truth only 30 seconds, Harry took a hesitant step forward, but Severus held him back.

"Sir? Is he…"

Not answering at first, Severus stepped forward to gaze down on his former master, and with a slight smile, he turned back to his son. "Yes, Harry. He's dead."

Harry smiled hesitantly, too drained and exhausted to process everything that was happening. Snape had done it! His father had done it! He hadn't even had time to fully process the amazing fact that… "You're alive!" He gasped, suddenly, staring at Snape in wonder.

Severus smirked. "What a brilliant observation. Do you suggest I award you house points for such a quick deduction?"

"Oh, shut up…" Harry breathed, scowling slightly.

Severus raised an eyebrow and Harry gave him a little sheepish smile. "Er, I mean…no, sir…but, er…I'm glad you're, well…alive…" He said softly.

Harry suddenly found his feet very interesting. What was he to say to the man he'd just found out was his father and who had not, after all, died, but had in fact come back to save him and kill Voldemort?

But it turned out he didn't need to say anything, because suddenly, he was being pulled into a sturdy chest, at first hesitantly, but then strong arms were wrapping around him, pulling him closer.

Harry tensed for a moment. He was so unused to this kind of contact, that it also seemed unnatural. But then the weight of the situation hit him and in his relief and shock and joy, welling up and bursting in him like a dam, he let out a little sob, and let himself lean into the surpringsingly warm embrace. When the man didn't push him away, but in fact simply gripped him more tightly, Harry buried his face in Severus' neck, and wrapped his arms around the man in return.

"We've done it, Harry. It's over now. He's gone," Severus whispered, one arm wrapped around him sturdily while the other hand moved up to rest in Harry's mop of hair.

Harry grinned in near disbelief into his father's neck and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

After a time, Harry backed up out of the man's arms and asked, croakily, "How?"

Severus interpreted the boy's question correctly and after regarding him silently for a moment, replied "I decided that perhaps I had more to live for than I previously had thought." He gave Harry a pointed look, and the young man blushed. "So I decided to take preventative measures and brewed myself an anti-venin, among other things, which I have been taking before each death eater meeting. Due to that already circulating in my system, the bite only managed to land me in a state of unconsciousness before it had the time to flow through and meet the anti-venin which neutralized it. After some of Poppy's good work, I was very much one of the living, though perhaps a little under the weather."

"Are you sick? Do you need some help?" Harry looked at him with wide eyes, full of concern, and a slight smile tugged at Severus' lips.

"Nothing you need be concerned with. After some rest, I should be fine."

Harry nodded, relieved. Then he looked back up at his father. "So you planned all of this? But why did you let me think you were dying?"

"Harry, I was hardly able to convey much in the state I was in in the Shack…but regardless, though I had taken the anti-venin, there was the possibility that it would not have been effective enough. And I did not feel it wise to have left you to expect me to live and then find me dead later…"

Severus then stopped, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "So…I suppose you saw the memories."

Harry nodded.

"All of them, then?"

"Uh, yeah…"

"I'm sorry."

Despite all he had recently learned, Harry was thrown by hearing such an earnest and sincere apology from Severus Snape. His throat felt strangely dry until he looked up and saw the guilt and pain in the man's eyes, and he just shook his head and offered a slight smile. "It's okay."

"It is not okay. You are too forgiving…just like your mother," he said softly.

"It isn't like Mum always made the right choices," Harry grumbled.

Severus scowled suddenly. "Lily did what she thought was best!"

Harry stepped back a pace at the familiar venom in the man's tone, but forced himself to respond. He had a feeling the man's ire was not entirely directed at him. "I know that! Look…I'm sorry. I'm not mad at her, really. I understand. It's just…I just wish things could have been different, is all."

Sufficiently appeased, Severus nodded.

"It's just…when I was little, there wasn't anything I wanted more than parents. I used to dream every night in my cupb-I mean, er, my room-that my parents would fly in and save me and…" he looked away, embarrassed by his confession.

Severus was greatly disturbed by what this suggested, particularly about his stumbling over the matter of his room, but decided they could discuss that later.

Instead, he set his hands on Harry's shoulders and regarded him in silence before saying, "I wish, more than almost anything else, that I could have been there for you, Harry. I wish I had retrieved you from that place," he spat, "and raised you. I wish I hadn't treated you like utter rot these past 7 years…there are many things I wish, but there is nothing I can do about most of them…but I am a selfish man, and so I venture to ask you, despite everything, if at some point you feel amenable to the idea, if we could try anyway? I would…like to be your father, Harry, and I pray it isn't too late."

The vulnerability of the man's tone and words, and the heartfelt wishes and apologies broke what little resistance Harry had to the idea and he stared up into his father's black eyes.

"I would like to try, too, uh…D-Dad," he said softly, and Severus' eyes widened in shock at the moniker. Before he knew what he was doing, he was embracing Harry once again, holding him tightly to him.

As Severus held the boy to him, almost possesively, he marveled at how the revelation of a son could do so much to turn back time, to make him become, once again, the person he had been, with hopes and dreams, unafraid of showing affection to those few who were worthy of it. Harry was his. His son. His son with Lily. How could he have missed it all these years? His son had been right under his nose all this time and he had verbally abused him unremittingly. He didn't know if he could ever make it up to him, but he would try.

Pulling back from Harry finally, he waved his wand to renew the stunner on the death eaters, and then, with another wave, bound them all together, with Voldemort at the head.

Harry gawked. "That's uh…some wand."

"Well, it is considered the ultimate war tool. It would have to at least somewhat live up to its name for it to have left the bloody legacy it has."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Harry said, eying it warily. "What are you going to do with it?"

"I will destroy it as soon as our more urgent business has been taken care of," he answered evenly.

Harry smiled. "Good. I hoped you'd say that."

Severus looked at Harry and his bright green eyes, sparkling sincerely from behind those damn glasses. For a moment, Severus had the compulsion to reach out and rip the glasses off, the better to see his son and what was left on earth of his Lily…but overriding that, at the moment, was a great swelling of pride and remorse at the boy before him, and how wrong he had been to label him attention-seeking and arrogant. Harry was none of the things he had labeled him-except for possessing too much Gryffindor recklessness, perhaps. He truly had much to atone for.

* * *

><p>OoOoO<p>

They made quite a sight, returning to the school grounds, emerging from the dark forest to Aurors and very many Weasleys, leading a group of unconscious, levitating Death Eaters, with Voldemort's corpse in front.

The speechless crowd, eyes wide in shock, looked from Harry, grinning shyly, to Severus Snape, who had his arm around the boy's shoulders, leaning slightly on him for support, to the group of 25 Death Eaters floating unconsciously, to Voldemort, pale and still, red eyes glassy.

"We've come to deliver the trash," Snape spat the word.

"S-Severus Snape!" Molly Weasley shrieked. "But-but you're!"

"He's fine!" Harry snarled, extracting his father's arm from around him to move to stand between him and the approaching Aurors. "He's _not _a death eater. He's been a spy for Dumbledore all this time and _he killed Voldemort_!"

That froze everyone.

"But he killed Dumbledore," one man pointed out.

"On Dumbledore's orders! He was dying and asked, uh…Professor Snape…to kill him so he could convince Voldemort he was loyal to him! And if you don't believe me, we have the pensieve memories to prove it, so-"

"Harry," Snape chided softly, gripping his shoulder firmly. "It's alright." He smirked at the shocked expressions all around. "Well?" He barked at the Aurors. "Rather than stand there and ogle me, why don't you go and arrest that group of inner-circle death eaters we've so meticulously gift-wrapped for you? Oh, and would you prefer gawking to taking care of Voldemort's corpse?"

That got everyone moving at a frantic pace, and Harry smiled up at Severus. "That did the trick," he said softly.

"Yes well, I have plenty of practice putting up with impertinent, gaping stooges."

Harry put his hand over his heart, mock-hurt, "You wouldn't, by chance, be including me in that grouping?"

"That depends on the day, Mr. Po…" He trailed off, and then they realized that the non-Aurors were still watching them warily, as if unsure whether to approach or not. Harry looked up and smiled and then was landed into by Hermione and Ginny, both crying, before a flood of others joined the pile. Snape stood back, watching with apparent disinterest, though in truth he was keeping a hawk's eye on his son, noting, with a squirming sense of guilt, just how uncomfortable Harry looked with all the attention.

"While I hate to break this up, I do believe that letting Mr. Potter breathe would be in his better interest," he sneered, when Harry seemed about at his breaking point. The crowd thinned, and Harry sent him a grateful smile.

"Severus, you were truly the one…?" Molly Weasley started uncertainly.

"Well, I believe it," came the voice of one red-head, pushing through to the front of the crowd.

"Fred! Where have you been?"

"Oh, here and there," he waved her off. "Look, Mum, I thought I was dreaming but now I _know_ what I saw. Professor Snape saved me this evening," he said softly, turning to look at Severus. "Thank you, sir. I have a feeling I would have been a goner tonight if you hadn't blocked that curse." He held out his hand, and to the astonishment of everyone but Harry, Severus gave him a wry smile and clasped it.

"You're welcome, Mr. Weasley. It was the least I could do after my poor aim last year affected your brother so badly. Though…I do have a matter to discuss with you in light of your apparent gratitude." He smirked slightly.

"Oh?" Fred asked, perking up, George stepping up beside him.

"I thought that perhaps we might resume our working relationship. I'm sure it would reassure your mother infinitely if you had someone with a Potions Mastery looking over your inventions on occasion."

"Seriously, sir? That would be great! And…in exchange?"

"I'm not completely a stranger to humor, Mr. Weasley, strange as that may seem. And I must admit that you two do have a certain creative flair in your potions. Assuming you are amenable to the idea, consider ourselves sometime research partners."

Harry shot Severus a shocked but greatly appreciative smile, suspecting the man's motivation to make such an offer had more to do with a desire to smooth things over between Harry's old "family" and his new as quickly as possible than for any real desire to work with the twins, though to be fair, he knew his father wasn't selfless enough to suggest something like this if he found the idea abhorrent. The nod and slight smile he received in return confirmed his suspicions.

"Oh, I could kiss you!" Fred then squealed, and at Snape's mortified, vicious glare, he sniggered. Snape shot a cursory glare at Harry, who was laughing alongside the twins.

"I believe him, too," said a quiet voice from the back, and everyone turned in surprise to see Neville valiantly making eye contact with Snape. "I...that big snake, Nagini...he almost got me, and er...Professor Snape killed him..." he said softly. "I wasn't sure what I'd seen had really happened, either, but..."

Everyone turned to Severus who looked away disinterestedly and said, "I was simply returning the favor. I owed the Snake."

"He would have saved you regardless, Neville," Harry put in, smiling, ignoring how his father rolled his eyes.

"Uh, Harry, are you sure this is really Snape? Because the greasy git would never-" Ron started in a stage whisper.

"Ron," Harry said, in a voice sharper than he and the red-head had been expecting.

"Wha-?" The redhead shut his mouth at the fierce glower his best friend was sending him.

"No, seriously though, Harry, we're clearly missing something. What's up with you two?" Ginny asked.

Hermione was watching the two dark-haired men thoughtfully, her eyes widening suddenly before narrowing again.

Harry looked back to Severus, who was watching him intently. The man sighed softly. "Though I would prefer to avoid the inevitable publicity, I suppose there is little we can do about that. It is up to you, Harry, when you feel comfortable. I have no objections."

"Yeah, I could definitely do without the publicity," Harry grimaced. "But one thing's for sure. I am _sick _of pretending. I want it to be out in the open," Harry said determinedly, ignoring the baffled looks of the others. Severus nodded and Harry could have sworn he heard the man mutter something like "I am ready to be rid of masks, as well." Harry smiled softly at him before tearing his gaze away to face his friends. When he hesitated to say anything, though, Severus stepped forward and put a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder.

Many of the Weasleys (and Neville) gasped, now gaping unashamedly at this action which could only be called supportive.

Harry rolled his eyes, wondering at how violent their reactions would be to the truth if they were this knocked off balance by such an innocuous gesture.

_Well, might as well just plunge in, I guess. _"Uh, everyone? This is going to come as a bit of a shock to you all…it was to us, and we only found out recently. Actually, I just found out like an hour ago…but, uh…Professor Snape is my father."

Reactions were mostly as expected. After a thick and repressive silence, Ron stumbled back in horror, yelling "No! Bloody hell!" before collapsing into his mother's arms, Hermione looked smug, though still somewhat shocked at the confirmation of one of her lines of reasoning, Molly and Ginny clasped their hands over their mouths, Neville paled, and the twins whooped and raced over to Harry, shaking his hand pompously and saying, "Well, it is certainly a pleasure, Harry Snape!"

Harry choked, and Severus looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Uh, guys? I just found this out TONIGHT. As in…could we not discuss name changes? I still have to figure out if I want to change my appearance back to normal."

At this, Severus snapped his head around and stared at Harry with an inscrutable expression. The others gasped, and the questions began again…

Harry sighed. It seemed his life might never be uncomplicated.

* * *

><p>OoOoO<p>

Time passed. As expected, the wizarding world's reaction to the revelation of Harry Potter's true parentage was dramatized and flashed over the Prophet's front page for several days in a row (though it often shared the spot with headlines concerning Voldemort's defeat). That the same two wizards were the major players in both stories was not something left alone by the Prophet. There were many dramatic stories of Severus' turn from the Dark at the last instant to save his son's life published, as well as a slew of darker suppositions questioning their roles both in Voldemort's defeat and their positions on the side of the light.

After the stress of that night, Severus and Harry had both been ordered to the infirmary by Madame Pomfrey, where Harry slept through the night and the next day recovering. Severus, on the other hand, did not fully regain consciousness for a full three days, and (much to his chagrin) was not let to leave the hospital wing for another day thereafter. Harry stayed by his bedside for most of it; Severus' exhaustion and near-coma-like state had sent the boy into a near panic, and he was only able to satisfy himself that the man would not be leaving him by staying close enough to see the clear rise-and-fall of his chest.

It was still such a new and in some ways, terrifyingly hopeful prospect-to think that he really had someone, a true family member, now-that it seemed to Harry he might be snatched away at any point.

Once Severus was sufficiently recovered, however, both he and Harry were so preoccupied with immediate recovery efforts and paying respects to those who had died in the battle that they had very little time to themselves.

Things finally seemed to have calmed down a week and a half after the fall of Voldemort, and Harry found himself in Severus' quarters, nursing a cup of hot cocoa.

"Um, uh…Dad?" Harry said softly. He was still a little hesitant to refer to his professor this way, but to call him Sir or Professor just seemed wrong. And the man didn't seem to mind. And part of Harry forced himself to call him that way because it just made it all seem more real to do so. Each time Severus failed to correct him, it made Harry a little more confident that perhaps the man really did want to be there for him.

"Yes, Harry?" Severus looked up over his cup of tea, one eyebrow raised in polite inquiry.

Harry took a deep breath and asked the question that had been itching at the back of his mind since that night. "Well, what about the Horcrux in me? I mean…this way, Voldemort could still come back, couldn't he?"

Severus looked at him seriously, but then smiled wryly. "About that. If you think I've been sitting here passively while you've been off hunting Horcruxes, you are most mistaken…"

Harry raised an eyebrow in an unconscious imitation of Severus. The man very nearly smiled seeing it, but then continued, softly, "I have discovered another way, Harry. And honestly, I am not sure I can ever fully forgive Albus for being so willing to risk your life for his bloody agenda."

Harry blushed at this, but said, "What kind of other way?"

Severus hesitated, but then said, slowly, "Harry, I don't want you to feel obliged to take this step immediately if the idea makes you uncomfortable, but I have done quite a bit of research on how I might combine soul-severing magic with the _familia revelia_…"

"Soul-severing," he repeated, not liking the sound of that, but taking a deep breath, moved on to the next part. "So, the potion that should let me see my, er…real appearance?"

"Yes, Harry," he said, reaching over and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You see…what Lily did was more than a superficial glamour charm. She actually performed magic which soaked into the very core of your being, changing how your body, and even your mind, to a certain extent, are made up, to ensure your safety."

"My…mind? So…" Suddenly Harry looked panicked. "Are you saying that I might not be the same person anymore when I take that potion?"

"It isn't anything so drastic, Harry," Severus reassured him. "You will still be you, but…certain strengths and weaknesses, interests in particular subjects for instance, may well change…but your basic personality and your reactions and compulsions should be mostly the same."

Harry considered this for a while, trying to come to terms with it. "So, guess I should get in a bit of quidditch before it goes away, huh?" He couldn't hide the bitter tone of his voice.

Severus looked mildly affronted. "Excuse me. I'll have you know, young man, that I wasn't such a slouch, either!"

Harry blinked and stared up at him. "You played quidditch?" he asked in awe, new respect forming for the man.

Severus smirked at this, amazed, once again, by the insanity which was a teenage boy's love for that bloody game. "I did."

"What, uh…what were you-"

"I was a seeker," he cut in smoothly, smirking at Harry's shocked and joyful expression.

"Seriously? James was just a chaser! Hey, can we play sometime?"

"Harry, I haven't played Quidditch in 20 years…"

"I'm sure with a bit of practice you'll be great. Please!"

Severus couldn't help it. Harry's expression was so carefree and childlike at that moment that he laughed out loud. "Fine, child. But haven't we gotten a bit off topic?"

"Oh…yeah, sorry. So…the potion."

"Yes…anyway, if I am correct, since the Killing curse was cast on you when you were in your changed state, it should actually be more effective to attempt to remove the Horcrux by doing it while removing your current appearance. The fact that Lily's charms affect every facet of your being will be beneficial in allowing us access to severing Voldemort's magic from you entirely. I merely need to ensure that every trace of Voldemort's magic is bound to Lily's charm and thus removing one would extract the other."

After letting that sink in, a hesitant smile overtook Harry's face. "That's…brilliant! Really, and it makes sense." He frowned, and then said, suddenly, trying not to sound too hopeful. "The scar?"

"Hm. Hard to say. At the very least, it will become much less visible. I am not sure if it will be possible to fully remove it from you, but all traces of dark magic within it will be.

"Thank you," Harry said softly. "When can I take it?"

"As soon as you like, though perhaps you had better take some time to let the idea sit first?"

Harry considered it. "Well, sure, but no matter what, it'll suck, right?"

"It will," he confessed. "It will be painful, Harry, but once it is over, you will never again have to suffer from Voldemort's influence. He will be truly vanquished."

"Let's go ahead and do it," he said. "After dinner. I am ready for this all to be over...Dad. As far as I'm concerned, the sooner, the better. Though I suppose I should at least tell my friends what I'm planning on doing."

"Very well. That is probably for the best."

"Yeah, I'm not sure what Ron would do if I just showed up, out of the blue, looking like you. I think he'd go catatonic!" Though Harry made it sound like a joke, Severus could see some real worry underneath the boy's smile.

Severus was silent for a long moment. "Harry, if this is too unsettling for you, I can do further research. I am sure that, given time, I could find another way to contain the horcrux... I realize this is a great deal to ask of you, to ask you to change your appearance from what it has always been."

Harry shook his head slowly, looking more sure of himself. "No, let's go ahead and try this. To be honest, I-I want to see what I really look like. I'm not so fussed about that. Not much, at least. I mean, I've never been entirely comfortable with my appearance anyway. First at the Dursleys'…well…I didn't think I was anything special, and then I got here and everyone told me I looked just like James Potter, but I couldn't remember the man, and so I just had this artificial sense of identity based on that. Now, I know the truth, and well, I'm glad."

Harry took a deep breath, and met Severus' eyes. "To be honest, I was really upset when I saw what prats Sirius and James used to be…It was really disappointing, and uh…well, I just want to say, I think I'm glad I'm your son," he said softly. "You and mum were so clearly in love and…you obviously made her happier than anyone, so…"

"Thank you, Harry," Severus said gruffly, giving him a quick, one-armed hug. Saying anything else would have been superfluous. They simply let Harry's confession wash over them, and Severus found another barrier around his heart yielding to his son.

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><p>So I am cutting this chapter here, now. Hope you liked the edits. It was just way too unwieldy the way it was...<p>

Thanks for reading!

tess4aria


	3. Ridding of the Darkness

**Not Too Late**

**Part 3: Ridding of the Darkness**

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><p><strong>AN: Rather than a new chapter in its own right, I have re-done the last chapter (because it was really crappy, in my opinion) and split it. So here is the second half, re-done. I would suggest re-reading chapter 2, as well, to check for changes. While I realize this ****may be dissappointing, as it is in lieu of a new chapter, I can promise that the next chapter will be up in a day or two! So you won't have long to wait!**

**I just realized this story was incredibly hard to get through the way it was...so I hope you don't mind! **

Please Review! It is quite different at points. Thanks!

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><p>OoOoO<p>

When they entered the Great Hall, as had been the case on any of the few occasions they'd wandered into the public eye recently, wave of whispers spread like wildfire and the two Snapes rolled their eyes. "Great. It's the Boy-who-bloody-lived all over again," Harry groused.

"Language, Harry," Severus chided quietly.

"At least I'm glad they're not looking at you like you're going to slit their throats anymore, though I'm not sure you find this much better" Harry said, grinning. And sure enough, after Severus' innocence had been proven in front of the Wizengamat several days previous, he had become even more of a celebrity in his own right, and was not enjoying it one bit. People were referring to him as the "Knight in the Shadows," and the Prophet had started printing its articles using this appelation non-stop.

At least people were moderately tame at Hogwarts, now that over a week had passed since Voldemort's defeat. They'd also had more time to get used to the revelation of Snape as Harry's father-needless to say, the news hadn't stayed just with the red-headed family for long. Though classes had been cancelled, a good number of students and their families were there, as Hogwarts was doubling as a temporary safe-house for those most effected by the war.

Surprisingly enough, among those still present were Draco Malfoy and his mother, currently sitting at a sparsely populated Slytherin table, looking somewhat uncomfortable for all their practiced poise. After Lucius was killed by Voldemort earlier that year, Narcissa had escaped his clutches by taking Draco and hiding at a strongly-warded ancestral home. Due to the remaining Malfoys' known dissention, they had become targets for the remaining death eaters, and so had conceded to accepting temporary asylum at Hogwarts, as all Malfoy houses were currently under inspection by the Ministry. Particularly in light of their manor having been used as Voldemort's stronghold for a time, they were unable to return until the Ministry had scrupulously examined it, and so the two aristocrats were stuck, regardless of how much they wanted to go home.

And odd as it was, considering their past history, it was Harry to whom the Malfoys spoke most during their time at Hogwarts. This was greatly due to Harry's speaking on behalf of both of them to the Wizengamot earlier that week, detailing how they had both been instrumental in his escaping several sticky situations with the Death Eaters earlier that year.

"Potter."

"It isn't Potter anymore," Harry smirked, only half-glancing at the blond headed his way.

"Uh, yeah…" Draco said, shooting a wary glance at his Head of House who looked quite amused.

"Uh, Snape, then?"

"How about Harry?"

Draco pulled a face. "Uh…how about no?"

They met eyes and then both grinned. "Look, Po-uh, _Harry_," Draco said, "I, er…wanted to th-thank you for…well…"

Harry grinned at the Slytherin's uncommon lack of decorum. "Oh sod off, Draco, you know I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you two. So…" Then he smirked, held out his hand and said, "Hi, I'm Harry Potter-Snape."

Smirking slightly in understanding, Draco took his hand. "Draco Malfoy."

"Ah, and Malfoy?" Harry said as the blond started to walk away.

"Yeah?"

"We should play Quidditch sometime, one-on-one. But…I might look different come tomorrow. Just warning you."

Intrigued, but only managing a nod, Draco walked back to join his mother, who nodded to Severus from across the hall.

Harry then went to sit with his friends, Ron the only one who looked less than amused by his interaction with Draco.

"Honestly, Ronald, he DID save our lives that time!"

"It's still Malfoy!" He hissed back at Hermione. "He's a Slytherin and Harry's acting all buddy-buddy with him and…"

"And my father's a Slytherin, and I was almost put in Slytherin," Harry reminded him.

"What about it? Look, Ron, get off your high horse about the houses, okay? Pettigrew was in Gryffindor, wasn't he? It isn't all black and white…"

Before Ron could do more than make a few fish-like gapes, Harry said, "Oh and…I have to warn you guys…"

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><p>OoOoO<p>

Everything was set, and Severus was nervous. Out of his mind nervous. Though he was certain his plan would work, he was not the least bit comfortable with the fact that he would momentarily be subjecting Harry to unbelievable pain.

"Okay, Harry. I want you to lie down in my bed now," Severus said when Harry returned in comfortable and non-restrictive pajamas.

"Oh. Sure." He awkwardly climbed into the warm four-poster and then blushed obscenely when he realized Severus was actually tucking him in.

He didn't say anything, though. How many times had he wanted just this when he was younger? Well, if his reaction were anything to go by, perhaps it would still be nice, once in a while…to be treated as someone's son and not as a burden…

"Harry. I know this might not please you, but I'm going to bind you to the bed physically so you can not hurt yourself while the Potion takes effect. Any Magical binding might interfere, and I'd like this to be as pure and undisturbed a process as possible," he added when Harry looked about to interject.

Harry nodded, and Severus stared at him silently for a while before gently taking off his glasses and placing them on the bedside table.

"I'll be here the whole time," he said, softly. "Are you ready?"

"Might as well be," Harry said, and then without further hesitation he downed the potion.

At first, he was only conscious of the disgusting flavor, and then of an odd, cold, tingly feeling running through his body…but then, suddenly, he felt it. A pain worse than that of the few times he'd suffered the Cruciatus curse. It felt as if his internal organs were trying to pull out of his each and every pore. But the pain was worse nowhere more than in his scar. He was sure his head would burst open, and he vaguely considered what an awful sight that would be for Severus…

Harry didn't scream, but if the convulsions were anything to go by, the pain he was dealing with was unimaginable. Severus took note of how strong the boy was when dealing with intense pain, and stored that tidbit in his accumulating none-so-savvy data that pointed to a lost childhood and another reason he had to loathe the headmaster. But he was brought out of these thoughts as Harry's scar began to bleed incessantly. In an instant, he was beside him, blotting his scar with a cool cloth, bathed in essence of murtlap. Severus remained like that, bathing his son's angry, bleeding scar, and then reached out to clasp the boy's hand.

Harry latched onto the comfort of his father's hand as if it were the one spot of land in a vast ocean. He held on for dear life, and despite the pain, he did find that physical warmth indelibly helpful. It grounded him, and kept him aware of the world, and who he was, and what he was doing, though the particulars were far too scrambled for him to make sense of.

All he knew at that moment was that there was someone beside him, speaking to him in a calming, silky voice, holding his hand and comforting his forehead, and it made him feel deliriously happy.

_**You do know this won't last, don't you, pup? Snape doesn't really give a rats arse for you. Never has and never will.**_

_**Sirius? **__Harry gaped as Sirius materialized before him out of the misty darkness, looking just as ratty and dishevelled as he had just getting out of Azkaban. Harry shook his head. _

_**You're wrong, Sirius. He's different. He doesn't treat me that way-**_

_**Defending him, are you? **__He sneered. __**It's Snivillus or me, Harry. Take your pick. But don't forget which of us has been there for you, and which of us has just made your life a living hell. **_

_**No...but...he apologized...and didn't you say I didn't have to choose? **__Harry's resolution was weakening, and every second he became less sure of what he remembered._

_Sirius gave a harsh, bark-like laugh. __**If you're really going to believe that sneaky, death eater git over me, then you're not who I thought you were Harry... **__his laughing face changed to a disgusted sneer. __**Oh, but you aren't anyway, are you, SNAPE? **_

_**Sirius, I-**__ Harry tried to get closer to him, but he flinched back, disgust lining his face._

_**I don't want to be touched by a death eater's spawn. Though to be fair, I never really liked you anyway. I just missed my best friend, but I, like many others...like JAMES...was tricked into showing you affection. Guess you should have been in Slytherin after all, Harry. No wonder you didn't try harder to save me in the Department of Mysteries.**_

_**No! I-I did try, but...**_

_**Are you going to rationalize my death as well? **__Cedric Diggory materialized in Sirius' place and sent him a look of unchecked anger. __**You realize you killed me, don't you? Why do you think you deserve a father when you stole me away from mine?**_

_Harry was visibly quivering now, shaking his head in denial, but unable to look away from Cedric. A flicker of anger passed through him, too, though, which made him momentarily more lucid and he said, in a stronger voice,_

_**I didn't steal you away from your father! Voldemort killed you, remember? I-**_

_**It's your fault I'm dead. Don't deny it. If it hadn't been for you, I never would have died. I...didn't want to die.**_

_This froze Harry entirely, and his doubts began to sweep in at a rapid pace._

_**I'm...sorry...but I didn't know, I...**_

_**Oh, Potter. You stupid, simple-minded child. So convinced of your own superiority that you expect us all to cry pity for you? For your lot in life? You're just as arrogant as I always thought you were.**_

_Harry stared in shock and hurt as his father materialized before him, loathing etched into every line of his face._

_**No, that isn't true, Dad-**_

_**DON'T call me that! **__He hissed. __**I would never want such a disgusting little brat as a son. You're a disappointment, Potter. You care nothing for the trouble you cause others as you blindly walk on to gain glory for yourself! Why would I want someone like that as my son? **_

_**But...but I thought you said...**_

_**Poor Potter, **__he mocked__**. Did you actually believe that? Do you truly believe you are worth being loved? **_

_Harry felt his knees giving out from under him, but he didn't let himself break. __**I...**_

_**HEY FREAKY GEEKY, you gonna cry, now? Cuz you don't have a mummy or daddy and now your real dad HATES you. That's cuz nobody loves FREAKS! **__An eight-year-old Dudley appeared, sneering down at Harry who was, suddenly, shorter than he._

_**You tell him, son! **__Said the voice of Vernon Dursley from behind a large newspaper where the man was sitting on a materialized couch._

_**You're a burden, Potter! Always have been and always will be. No one would ever want you! **__Petunia hissed before approaching him, giving a token swing at him with a frying pan before pushing it into his hands. __**Well? Get on with it!**_

_**That's right, boy. What are you trying to do? Make those of us worth living starve to death? **_

_Numbly, Harry approached the stove which loomed over him. Sighing, resigned to his lot in life, he dragged a kitchen stool over and carefully climbed up before starting to fry up juicy sausages for his 'family.'_

_**Come on, freak! Why aren't you finished yet? **_

_**Please, Dudley, just let me...**_

_But Dudley just cackled before shoving Harry roughly, causing him to flip some of the sausages to the ground._

_**YOU! BOY! You dare waste our hard-earned food? **__Vernon yelled, face turning puce, standing up._

_Without saying a word, Petunia took Harry's hands and pressed them to the hot stovetop, but before he had the chance to do more than let out a single scream, Vernon had grabbed him roughly, dragged him from the kitchen and backhanded him into his cupboard._

_**Stay there and rot for all I care. If anyone wants you, they'll come. Otherwise...no loss to the world, I'd say. **__The man laughed as if he'd just made a great joke before slamming the door on Harry, locking him in darkness._

_He was in there, alone, for what seemed like hours, but then a deep, silky voice itched at his consciousness. A voice which was familiar, somehow, though Harry couldn't imagine where from. __**Harry...it's okay, I'm here,**__ the voice whispered. __**I'm right here. It isn't real. Don't be taken in by it. You know the truth, deep down.**_

_Harry looked around franticaly for the source of the voice, but no one was there. He was still alone in his cupboard. __**Where...where are you? Are you even real? **_

_**I'm very real,**__ said the voice, and Harry noticed with some surprise that it sounded really worried. __**I'm just out of reach, but I'm right beside you. You have to believe me, Harry.**_

_**But...why would you want to be? I'm not worth it. I'm just a freak. Everyone says so...**_

_The voice paused and when it sounded again, it sounded angry and Harry flinched. __**Don't say that!**__ It hissed. __**Harry...you are not, and never will be a...freak. Don't use that word about yourself! And why would you have so many who care for you if you weren't worth it?**_

_**What do you mean? Nobody cares about me. I'm too scrawny and weak and I'm not good enough at getting my chores done. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon reckon that...that...**__ Here, Harry paused, sniffing before saying, quietly, __**that my parents didn't want me and that they're better off dead than with me...**_

_Suddenly, despite being alone in the cupboard, Harry could swear he felt a sensation of warmth enveloping his body, almost as if invisible arms were hugging him, holding him. He couldn't remember ever being held, or hugged, but this ghost-person or whoever it was he was speaking to...was he really hugging him?_

_**It is because I wanted to be with you, Harry, that I chose to fight death. You know that to be true, son. Please. Believe me...Come back to me...**_

Severus was out of his mind with worry, but suddenly, finally, Harry's limp body responded, and he felt a weak pressure on the hand gripping Harry's. "Oh, Harry," Severus whispered, pulling him closer and running his hand on the boy's back in frantic circles, before running his hands up and down Harry's arms-anything to help him regain sensation and some physical-mental connection to the real world. For the last few minutes, Harry had been trapped in a kind of waking dream-state, though outwardly he had gone still as death. Severus had carefully lifted Harry's eyelids and as gently as possible, pushed his way into Harry's mind. And what he had found there made him sick.

For the longest time, he was unable to make any contact with Harry, and was forced to sit by as phantoms created by Harry's doubts and the dark magic of the Horcrux tormented the boy.

But when he saw the eight-year-old Harry pushed and locked in that awful cupboard after being viciously abused by his relatives, something within Severus broke and perhaps his will was finally strong enough that he was able to get through to his son.

And now, finally, he seemed to be coming back to him. Harry's grip on his hand tightened until he thought passively he might lose circulation in it, but Severus didn't even think of asking him to let up a notch. If he could offer the boy this small comfort, then far be it for him to refuse him that. And it was solid proof he was coming back to him, that he was coming back to the real world. A fierce convulsion wracked through Harry and the boy began to whimper, cracking the shell around Severus' heart even further. Then, in a very soft, childlike voice, likely carried over from his dream-state, Harry called out, "Daddy?"

His eyes were glazed, and he tried, unsuccessfully, to burrow even closer to Severus.

Without a thought for hesitation of any kind, Severus bent down and swept the boy into his arms again, careful to mind the restraints and that he not cause additional pain to his son. "Yes. Good boy...I'm here, Harry. I'm here, son," he whispered.

"Y-you came! Aunt Tunia and Uncle Vernon said you wouldn't but...but I knew you would" The happy, childlike expression turned hesitant and the boy whispered, "It's been really dark...I...Do I have to go back?" Harry's childlike hesitancy cut into Severus. He knew Harry's regression was a defense mechanism, causing him to see the world as if he were a little boy. Gently, he drew him closer, and kissed him on his mop of messy hair which, he realized with a jolt, was straightening and lengthening before his eyes. It wasn't as if he had doubted it, but he now had tangible, verifiable proof that the boy was his son.

He watched in awe as Harry's body changed, rapidly. Only a few moments more passed before the transformation stopped and he let his eyes flit over his son's body. Harry sported straight black hair which came to his chin, a nose which was not his (thank Merlin) but more aquiline than it had been-perhaps one of his Mother's relatives'? Harry was also clearly taller, his legs now poking out from under the half-disturbed blanket, and the hand still clutched in Severus' was now long and thin like his own.

A final convulsion and then a grey-black miasma began to seep from Harry...from his mouth and ears and eyes...but mostly from his scar. Harry's face scrunched up in pain and he opened his mouth in a silent scream. The miasma, meanwhile, let out an inhuman shriek before finally dissolving into nothing.

Just as quickly as it began, it ended, and the lines of tension in Harry's face smoothed out as he fell into the warm embrace of sleep. And Severus stared in wonder at the boy before him-his son as he was born-for the first time.

_He's beautiful. This certainly fits him better than the Potter look. I just hope he agrees…_

Unwilling to leave Harry's side after his ordeal, Severus lay down beside him on the Queen-sized bed, and drifted off soon after.

* * *

><p>OoOoO<p>

When Harry awoke, he felt like he'd just been trampled by some thestrals and then some. But the sound of breathing to his right alerted his senses, and he stared in surprise at Severus, lying asleep beside him. He blinked. He could see…he looked up and around and noticed the strange clarity of everything. Feeling his face he froze before a slow grin stretched over his lips. He didn't need glasses! Shocking as it was, he knew what that had to mean…it had worked. He was no longer, physically, Harry Potter. He was the son of Lily Evans and Severus Snape, and he looked it.

He felt a vague sense of loss at the thought that he wasn't Harry Potter anymore-not really, at least, but it was only a fleeting feeling. For he had never, truly, been happy as Harry Potter. And what about what he'd gained since the revelation of his true parentage? Before, he'd barely known a thing about his Mum-only that she was kind and had his green eyes, but now he knew much about his Mum...and he had a Dad, hard as it still was for him to believe at times.

Harry was knocked out of his ruminations at a sound to his right. Suddenly, Snape sat up and turned instantly to gently grasp him by the shoulders, worry lining his face. "Harry, are you alright? How long have you been up? Let me get you a muscle relaxant and pain reliever."

Harry smiled at the way Severus practically spewed concern currently. That would take some getting used to.

His father was soon back with two vials and he helped Harry to swallow them down before handing him a glass of pumpkin juice to help wash away the taste.

"Thanks, dad," Harry managed wearily.

Severus just mmmed in response, slowly massaging Harry's back in circular motions, his gaze not leaving his son's face for an instant.

"Um, uh...dad? Are you okay?" Harry asked, a little unnerved by the way Severus was treating him as if he might break at any moment.

"I'm fine, Harry. But...it was a difficult night. Do you remember what happened?"

Harry considered it, brows furrowed. The night's events were really blurry in his mind's eye...only vague images, but... "Well, there was a lot of pain...and then..." his eyes widened as images began to pour back, but under the warmth of his father's hand on his back, they didn't seem as terrifying as they had the night before.

"You gave me quite a scare, Harry," Severus said quietly. "Though truly, I should have expected something similar. Voldemort would not have let you go without a final trick."

"I saw...I thought I was..."

"You know what that projection of me said was fiction, don't you, Harry?" He asked softly.

Harry tried to smile, but he just managed a grimace.

"Harry," Severus said firmly. "I was wrong to treat you so abhorrently before. You didn't deserve it-you never did. I believe that, to a certain extent, I knew it all along, but I was too much of a stubbron, blind, vindictive fool to cease my behavior in regards to you. Please know that...I feel gratified to be your father. I know it is perhaps more than I deserve, but if you will have me..."

In response, Harry leaned forward and hugged him around the middle. "Thank you," he whispered. "Of course I'll have you." And like that, the poisonous doubts left him, and he found himself able to see the ridiculous lies those projections had been. Then a thought occurred to him, that froze him in shame and learned fear. If Severus had seen his own projection...

"Umm...D-Dad? Did you see...well, the Dursleys..." Severus stiffened under him and when Harry manged to glance up to see his reaction, Severus' face was set in very grim, and very angry lines. But when he looked down to meet Harry's gaze, his expression softened significantly and he said, running a hand through Harry's hair, "We need to speak about that further, Harry..." Seeing the boy's flinch, he said, gently, "Not right now. At your own pace...but Harry. If nothing else, know that everything they ever told you...about yourself or your...parents...was a complete and utter fabrication. They fed you lies to break you down, and to see the person you've become regardless of their treatment is remarkable. You are truly someone to be proud of, Harry."

Harry felt his heart fill up with a fierce and exultant sense of elation. Did Severus mean it? Was he...proud of him? He had never before, besides Sirius and, to a smaller extent, Remus and the Headmaster, had anyone he had cared to want to impress, or, more accurately, who had cared that what he did was impressive. He had never had anyone to make proud-not really. But the knowledge that perhaps he had that now, and that, he wasn't a total failure, either, filled in one of the damaged holes in his heart.

Smiling softly, Harry then found himself shot back to the present as questions began to bubble beneath the surface. "Did it work? The horcrux stuff I mean! I'm sure the rest worked because I can see without my glasses, but…"

Severus smiled at his son, now a perfect mixture of his and Lily's features, his beautiful green eyes finally unobstructed, and said quietly, "Look and see for yourself," and he handed him a hand mirror.

Harry stared at the unfamiliar face in shock. It wasn't a bad look, he realized. He kind of liked it…he did look a lot like Snape had when he was younger, but his features were somewhat softer, and he had a smaller nose, and his eyes were green, but otherwise…

"Yep, I'm a Snape clone."

Severus scowled and Harry laughed. "I don't mean that like it's a bad thing!"

"Oh, really?" Severus cocked an eyebrow. "I find that hard to believe."

"It's true, though. I like my appearance. It kind of…fits. It'll be some time before I stop apologizing to my reflection for almost walking into it, though…"

Severus smirked. "I bet it will. But I agree with you. You look very…right," he said softly. "So," he said, "anything else you want to check for?" He eyed Harry's forehead suggestively.

Harry gasped and felt his forehead, searching for the familiar raised skin. He gawked at his reflection. And then stared some more, blinking owlishly. "That's…really me? So…the scar's gone?" He couldn't believe it. He hadn't really expected it to just disappear.

"It's gone, Harry. Perhaps with this you will believe me when I say that the Horcrux, and any dark influence, is completely gone from your body. We never have to worry about that megalomaniac again."

With a whoop of joy, Harry threw himself at Severus, who he was suddenly equal in height to, hugging him tightly around the neck. "Thank you. Thank you!"

"Why are you thanking me, you little fool? You just had to endure unbearable pain due to me." Severus said, covering his bemusement with irritation, and suddenly looking quite uncertain about what to do with a 17-year-old half in his lap.

Harry just smiled, not at all perturbed by the man's prickly tone. "For everything…for deciding you wanted to give this a go," he made a hand gesture to indicate the two of them. He then paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "And, er, for deciding you had something to live for and taking that anti-venin…for saving me from Voldemort and the Death Eaters…again. For making Mum happy and well…"

"Thank you, Harry," he said quietly. "Unexpected as it is, I must say I…do feel that I may have a reason to really live on now. And that is something I haven't felt in nearly twenty years…" he smiled wryly. "How you have managed to spur such an inclination, I can't imagine…" he finished with a slight upturn to his lips.

Despite Severus' attempt at humor at the end, his words were so heartfelt, particularly coming from the usually cold Potions professor, that Harry, unsure of how to react just said, lightly, "Must be that golden boy charm, don't you think?"

"Imp," Severus growled, swatting him lightly.

Harry grinned. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Harry turned to him, eyes widening. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Uh, mum told me to tell you that she loved you…and…that you should stop blaming yourself for everything. Oh, and that you should, er...get back to living."

Severus' head snapped up to stare at Harry as if he'd sprouted another head. "What? Lily? But how-"

"Well, I didn't realize it earlier, but Dumbledore…he gave me the resurrection stone. Before I got to the clearing, I held it and they all appeared-uh, James, Sirius, Remus and Mum-and they hinted you were still alive…"

"Black and Potter, huh?" He sneered. But then, seeing the look on Harry's face, he said,

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'll make an effort to curb my gut responses."

Harry shook his head sadly. "No, that's alright. I know they were absolute gits to you. If I'm honest with myself, I think there's a possibility they may have treated me the same way if I'd been in school…but it's weird, since I've always thought of James as my father and he died to save me and well, Sirius, I…"

Severus sighed. "I am not going to fault you for liking people I am not fond of, Harry. Care for whoever you will. I will attempt to at least remain civil."

"So, having me for a son won't automatically have you handing out Gryffindor house points?"

Severus just raised an elegant eyebrow.

Harry laughed. He felt as if he had been released from a burden he had become so accustomed to carrying that he had ceased to notice it, but now that it was gone, he felt lighter than he could ever remember feeling. Moving his hand up to rub absentmindendly at his forehead, he realized that that wasn't far from the truth.

He felt oddly free and excited to experience something he hadn't ever thought he would be able to enjoy-just living.

And terrified as Severus was that he might not be able to be the father Harry needed, as he looked at the boy, he wondered how he could ever have lived his life without him for so long...

"Thank you, Lily," he whispered.

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><p><em>Next Time: Draco POV Severus POV_

tess4aria


	4. Epilogue: Part 1

**Epilogue: Part 1**

Thank you so much for your reviews, as always! I am glad people seem to be pleased with my recent edits.

This is greatly a chapter explaining things left unclear up to this point...from Draco's and Severus' perspectives. And then a sprinkling of forward plot-movement.

**A/N: I have messed with the DH timeline somewhat... that is, Harry and co. are captured and delivered to the Malfoys' before the Forest of Dean situation...and they get the cup before the locket. I may have also messed with the conditions of the Vow Severus made to protect Draco but again...poetic license!**

**Please Review!**

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><p>oOoOo<p>

**Draco POV**

To say my life has been turned upside down somewhat this last year would be the understatement of the century. More like everything I have ever believed in, and the people I have always expected to associate with-those I thought I could rely on, they've really confunded the hell out of me.

For all that the goody-goodies on the side of the light like to say about my father, he's a good man. At least he was…to me. Sure, he was strict. He expected a lot. But he wasn't impossible to please. And when I did succeed in making him proud of me, nothing else seemed to matter.

He was in the Dark Lord's service, and so I never questioned that someday I would be, too. I did a lot of boasting my first few years at Hogwarts. Maybe I didn't really know what I was talking about, but Crabbe and Goyle would go along with it, of course, and it was really amusing to get under Potter and Weasley's skin. Those two are seriously so easy to rile up.

But I never really got it. I know that now. When the Dark Lord marked me, I expected father to be so proud. To look at me that way that made me feel as if nothing could stop me. But…he didn't. He looked…well, resigned. Of course, he didn't let that show until we were back at home. I tried to talk to him, but he just slammed the door to his study and ordered me to leave him. I tried not to question it, but I couldn't help but wonder what exactly I'd done wrong. Wasn't this what he'd always wanted for me?

Mother wasn't as much of a mystery. She clearly had mixed feelings about my joining the Death Eaters, but I expected that from her-she was always so worried whenever father left for a meeting. And she's always been a tad overprotective, so for her to not be completely thrilled that I was putting myself in danger wasn't a big deal to me.

My first meeting as a marked Death Eater, I left the house with all these illusions of grandeur. But then we arrived, and I saw the way my father stooped to kiss the Dark Lord's robes-the way he acted so… obsequious! It surprised me, only a little bit, mind you. I knew the honor it was to pledge your soul and loyalty to the Dark Lord, but it still knocked me off a little bit to see my father-the proudest man I have ever known-kneel in the dirt like that. And then the torture began.

I still shoved all doubts aside, and tried to ignore the niggling voice in my head that warned me the Dark Lord's mission for me to take out Dumbledore was just an impossible task to punish Father for failing to retrieve the prophecy.

I covered any doubts with arrogance. It's so obvious now. I wouldn't listen to any ideas mother and father tried to throw at me. Once back at school, Severus kept approaching me, but I was determined that if I could just complete this one mission, my father and I would be back in the Dark Lord's graces, and this dark dream would be what I had always thought it would. All I had to do was succeed.

As things began to look more and more hopeless, I began to blame Potter more and more for our predicament. And then…that night came. I was terrified, though I would never admit it aloud. I had pushed myself on, urged myself not to doubt my mission. It was for my father. It was for the best. But killing Dumbledore had been in abstraction, but when he was there in front of me, it suddenly occurred to me that to kill another human being wasn't as simple as I'd always bragged and assumed.

It wasn't as if I'd ever liked the man, but the last few torture sessions I'd had to watch, and the pure pleasure at meaningless violence the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters had shown had disturbed even me. I had tried not to let it wear on me, but I suddenly found myself on the front lines of a very real war, in control of a person's life. And it also occurred to me that Dumbledore was probably the only one who could defeat the Dark Lord (not to mention who was such a forgiving fool that he might let me get off and on with my life).

And so I hesitated. I actually began to lower my wand. The part of me that still wanted to be a kid wanted to trust those damn twinkling eyes. But then Severus killed him and we escaped together. I returned home… but it wasn't home any longer. I realized that pretty quickly. The Dark Lord had taken our house as his own personal palace, and I soon found that rather than gaining more power since getting involved with the Death Eaters, I'd actually lost it. I was no longer at school, for one thing. And though I'd complained often enough about the place, at least I felt like someone there. I was the Prince of Slytherin, and I got respect-even if it was because people feared me.

But now, I was nothing. The Dark Lord treated me and my parents like servants-not really any different from the house elves. Honestly, worse, because he didn't often torture the house elves. I got used to it, myself. I stopped caring when he decided to use me as an 'example.' It was when he tortured Mother that I really began to crumble inside.

I could tell Severus pitied us occasionally, but this just made me more angry. I couldn't stop myself from hating him. If he hadn't killed Dumbledore and stolen my glory, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation! But the longer things continued, the more time I had to watch the way the Dark Lord played with his servants, and I realized…there was never any hope of a glorious life by his throne. It was always only him. The rest of us were only fit to kiss his robes.

I began to get why Father hadn't seemed so pleased for me to take the Mark. I wasn't so pleased any longer, either.

It looked as if there was no possible end in sight. How long was the madman seriously going to live in our house? I could hardly give an order to my own personal house-elf without consulting the Dark Lord first, anymore. I could tell he found it horribly amusing, too. I did not.

Since I wasn't in school, time seemed to stretch on and on. Even though the Dark Lord had made Severus headmaster, he didn't let me return. I accepted his decision obediently, of course, but inside I was screaming. That would have been a chance for me to make something of this, at least! At least if I had gone back to school…sure I would have had to deal with death threats from the other houses, but at least I could have stood tall and lied to the other Slyths. But no. I had to stay here in this expensive prison which used to be my home.

And with Dumbledore gone, it didn't seem like there was any way things would turn around. But then, one day, Potter and his friends appeared from out of nowhere, it seemed. They were brought to our mansion by some bounty hunters, and Potter's face was swollen up sickeningly. But I knew it was him, anyway. Especially with his two sidekicks, there was no question about it. But when they asked me to identify him, once again…I hesitated.

Now that I knew what really happened to enemies of the Dark Lord (and to his loyal followers), I wasn't as keen on seeing what he'd do to Potter and his cronies. Not that I liked them. Not at all. I've always looked down on them-hated them, really. But I'm no idiot. Just because someone's my school hood enemy doesn't mean I want to see him tortured and cut apart viciously or whatever else they had in store for him before finally killing him. And so, I lied and said I didn't know them. Mother was terrified, and tried to get me to own up. But when they noticed Potter's scar, it was over.

And then they escaped. The Dark Lord was not pleased upon his return to hear who had slipped out of his grasp, and Bellatrix (the bitch) was quick to tell him she suspected me of helping them escape. Just because I had hesitated.

Well, it wasn't as if I were in the Dark Lord's good graces. And so he began to torture me once again. The pain was beyond anything I've ever felt. I wasn't really sure how much longer I could deal with it, but…then Father stepped between us, and pleaded with the Dark Lord to spare me.

I was afraid he wouldn't get up after that.

But then things went back to the horrible monotony of before.

Then, one day, I was actually allowed out of my gilded prison. I was to accompany Bellatrix to Knockturn. Well, wasn't I surprised, as we passed Gringotts, to see another Bellatrix walking right in. The two accompanying her, Potter and Weasley, of course (I had no doubt it was the Golden Trio…who else was fool enough to go up against the Dark Lord?) met my eyes and I saw a look of panic quickly schooled. But a split second decision and I just nodded imperceptibly and distracted Bellatrix, pulling her with me down a side street as quickly as possible.

Apparently, one of the Dark Lord's "Horcruxes" had been taken that day. So that's what Potter and his goons were after…whatever it was, if it disturbed the Dark Lord this much, then they had to be on the right track. Funny, that didn't bother me at all. But the bastard needed a scapegoat, and as Bella was too valuable, he turned his wand on me.

Once again, Father interfered.

And Voldemort killed him.

It was at that moment that I truly realized what a farce I had been living. I began to really reexamine my choices, and the people I had made my friends and my enemies. I knew one thing for sure. The Dark Lord was my enemy now.

After he killed Father, Mother barely hesitated an instant before whisking me away. I think she saw the look on my face or something-she must have known I wouldn't keep quiet any longer. And so we fled. I was horrified, at first, when she took us to Hogwarts-to Snape's office. But then she explained that the man had apparently made an unbreakable vow to protect me. That was a shock.

I was also surprised by mother's risky decision to trust Snape. His loyalties have always been anyone's guess, but when she pleaded our case and her desire to protect me, the man assented to helping us. He did it reluctantly, warning mother that were he not under the compulsion of the vow, she would be dead now.

But I didn't believe it. From what I'd heard, the vow did not extend that far. Keeping me alive would have been enough. If he were truly loyal to the Dark Lord, he would have killed mother for her show of disloyalty. But rather than that, he helped us relocate to Prince manor. The Princes and Malfoys shared enough common blood that the ancient wards would worked well for our protection; not to mention the place was unknown to practically anyone, and with the additional wards Severus constructed around the place, it was sure to be a safe bet (assuming my Head of House didn't turn on us, of course).

But a week passed, and nothing happened. I was in a haze of despair and confusion over Father's death for most of the time, but then my head cleared somewhat and I suddenly felt how cut off from the war we were at the old manor. But the house, as most old pureblood manors do, contained a remarkable library. And so I decided to take advantage of it and got to work researching (with mother) about the sainted Horcruxes Voldemort was so attached to. Once I realized just what they were, it hit me what Potter was really up against. So we started to look into ways of destroying them.

Eventually, we figured the Sword of Gryffindor would work to take out the bastard's soul and we let Snape know. I suppose he took our word for it, though he only waved us off indifferently when we gave him the information. No Death Eaters arrived at our place to kill us, however, so I knew my suspicions about Snape's loyalties had to be right.

He also supplied me with a stream of potions to cut the pain in my Dark Mark. Apparently the wards cut off some of the connection, anyway. Otherwise, I don't know why Voldemort didn't just go ahead and off me when I ran.

Snape informed us of the night of the final attack, and I managed to get there just in time to stop Crabbe blasting Potter with Fiendfyre. Even though Dumbledore was gone, Potter had proven himself to be a lot more resilient than I'd ever thought. Maybe he did have a chance, despite all I'd thought that a joke since I'd met him. So I pushed the three idiots out of the way as Crabbe threw his curse.

They were screaming about a Diadem and I realized they had to be searching for the Horcrux, so I yelled at them to leave it-the Fiendfyre would take care of it anyway. The fire was out of control, though, and after yanking me onto his broom, Potter (the blasted Hero) tried to go after Crabbe, too, but another swirl of the cursed fire swooped up at us. I screamed for them to get us out of there…and so he did. Potter and Weasley were gaping at me like the idiots they are and so I had to block another curse from hitting them before they snapped out of it.

Potter (the sap) sent me a hesitant smile before running off elsewhere to perform his heroics. I then set my attention to Goyle, who was staring into space, distraught after Crabbe's miserable end.

Now, as I sit here in the Great Hall after the Dark Lord's defeat, I'm still trying to reconcile everything. So Snape was a spy for the light all along. Figures, the sneaky bastard. I must say, though, that the revelation that he is actually Potter's father? Now that swung me for a loop. It gives Potter some points, though, I must admit. A little Slytherin blood will do that for you.

Speaking of Potter…he was a surprise. I suppose I should have expected it. Even with the revelation of his Slytherin blood, he's still the ultimate Gryffindor. But after the way I treated him all through school, I really didn't expect him to change his tune so quickly-just because I'd helped him a little bit this year.

But at Mother's and my trial, there he was, in all his Gryffindor pomp, standing there and telling the Wizengamot that I lied for him in front of inner circle death eaters…and distracted Bellatrix in Diagon. He told how it was mine and my mother's research that led to him getting the Sword of Gryffindor to destroy the Horcruxes…told them how I'd saved him several times the night of the battle (as if he hadn't done the same to me by flying me out of the room on his broom)…

But he and Severus both spoke up for us. Mother wasn't marked, so that made things easier, and my age and apparent remorse worked for me. They managed to convince the Ministry sods that I had been forced to take the Mark, and that I had only been used as a servant by Voldemort. That I was a victim. Well, they weren't too far off, I suppose.

I felt it necessary to give Potter a semi-public show of gratitude. As a Malfoy, it would show a great lack of decorum to do anything less. But his easy and genuine acceptance…and his subsequent offer to play… quidditch? That, I did not expect. Maybe he isn't so bad after all…

Making my way to the Great Hall, I wonder at our decision to stay at the school rather than return to Prince Manor, as Severus suggested. I definitely groused enough about staying here, but it was mostly for show. I honestly wanted to stay at Hogwarts, even in its current safe-house condition. For one thing, I've spent about enough time locked up in manors, recently.

And there's something to say about being around more people than just Mother-even if most of them are obnoxious Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. But staying also proves I'm not afraid to show my face. That I have nothing to hide. I am a Malfoy, after all. Why shouldn't I stay and stake my rightful place in this school?

The House Tables are no longer sorted by house. People are just sitting wherever, but I don't really mind. As I walk in, yawning in boredom, I notice a tall, dark-haired guy around my age I've never seen before and spare him a slight glance, gesturing to the next seat. He nods curtly, and I take my place beside him.

At least he doesn't seem to be a loudmouthed obnoxious prat like so many. But is it just me, or is he smirking? As if he's privy to some great joke…well, I am not about to let some new kid laugh at my expense!

"Excuse me," I drawl, "But just what do you find so amusing?"

The boy turns to me and grins and I find myself staring at his eyes. They're strangely familiar.

"Oh, nothing Draco. I'm just somewhat surprised by how quickly you've forgotten our last conversation."

Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. I swear I've never spoken to this kid…but he does look familiar. Perhaps…I nearly choke on my coffee, and have to drop my cup somewhat inelegantly. I know where I've seen those features! My eyes track between the smirking young man to my right and my Head of House, apparently watching us with a smirk identical to his…

"Potter!" I gasp, jumping up and pointing at him in shock.

Many heads around us turn and the usual hiss of whispers begins.

"Damn it, Draco, do you have to be so subtle?" Potter grouses sarcastically.

Smirking, I sit back, gracefully, at the table and stare at him unabashedly. "My, my. You are the Professor's son, aren't you?"

Potter rolls his eyes.

I grin widely. For some reason, seeing him this way, it's harder to think about all those years of animosity. This Potter, I think I can deal with. After all, I've always liked Severus, for the most part. And I have to admit that some intelligent conversation with someone my age would be nice... "So…you still on for a little game of Quidditch, later?" I ask casually, and a little smile plays around Potter's lips.

"I suppose." He turns to me and smirks. "Just a bit of warning, Draco. My father was a Seeker for Slytherin. Don't think this little appearance change is going to give you the upper hand."

I can't help it. I laugh out loud. Damn it, it almost feels like we're friends. And for some reason, the idea isn't all that abhorrent, anymore. The Dark Lord's gone, so why the hell not? "I'm sure I'll manage. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Potter-Snape," I smirk.

He grins back, but then turns around when two familiar Gryffindorks enter the Great Hall.

"I'll meet you later, alright? I have someone else to surprise." I nod and watch as he scurries across the Hall and taps the two annoyances on the shoulders. They jump, the Weasel scowls and glares (no surprise, there), while Granger looks at him as if he is something interesting under a microscope…but then, of course, Granger leaps into his arms, and Weasel's mouth drops open unattractively.

More idiots along the Gryffindor table leap up or back up. Not my problem. I think I'll top out at a civil relationship with one Gryff, thank you very much.

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><p>oOoOo<p>

**Severus POV**

Ever since I'd heard tell of Potter's birth, I had been determined to despise the boy. He was, after all, the son of the man who had tormented me. Not only was he likely to be just as insufferable as the man had been, but he was the proof that I had lost Lily for good. The proof of my failures. I had too many, already. I knew seeing the tangible proof of my regrets would only make life more painful.

And when he arrived at Hogwarts, far too small to be 11, and with a hesitant shyness in those green eyes which had haunted me for years, I slammed my occlumency shields into place as quickly as possible. The boy was, after all, a clone of James Potter, and so I forced myself to ignore anything else I noticed about him which might suggest otherwise. I could not let myself see him as Lily's…because that would make the pain too real.

I needed to keep my distance from him, and so I shot down any chance of his taking an interest in my class in his first lesson. I ignored any twinges of guilt I may have felt at my decidedly unfair treatment of him. This was necessary. I would not survive his seven years at Hogwarts otherwise.

Years passed, and our relationship became increasingly volatile. And occasionally, I would slip up, let my guard down, and notice something which ran counter to my expectations of him as Potter Jr…but I would violently squash any such thoughts. I accused him of being just like Potter. I did it in part to convince myself. And it worked. I truly began to see the child that way. And as he grew older, I continued to see Potter and his gang sneering at me when I looked at him…

But when Albus told me of his final plans for the boy, I could not deny how it unnerved me. It upset the balance of my world. Albus had always protected James Potter and his cronies. Surely he would put Harry's needs above all else, as well? But no…he was simply using the boy as a tool in his war. And with this revelation, my carefully constructed conception of Harry Potter began to crumble at last. I did not let him see this, of course…I treated him as reprehensibly as always. I had a part to play, after all. The Death Eater Professor. Of course I hated all things Potter. Especially Harry Potter.

After completing the horrendous duty I had pledged my soul to…on the astronomy tower…I thought that was the worst of it. I was wrong. The way Potter looked at me; his green eyes blazing with a ferocity I had not seen since Lily, almost undid me. The way he accused me of being a coward, the way he impertinently used my own spell against me; in those few moments, he brought the past back into such clear and distinct focus that I almost truly lost control.

And then…

And then I discovered the truth. Yes, my past had been painful, but the boy, Harry, was not, as I had always seen him, the proof of my failures and regrets. He was, in fact, the proof of the best part of myself, the best part of my life…he was the proof of Lily, and of my connection with her. I had tormented an innocent boy for so long for incredibly selfish reasons. Not only had I accused him, constantly, of things he had no knowledge of, but my accusations were based on absolutely nothing. Nothing but a story, constructed to keep us both safe.

But there must have been a better way! As it is, I will never fully be able to atone for the way I have treated my son.

In an instant, with this revelation, the walls I had built to protect myself from becoming attached to him, from seeing Lily in him, crumbled. It wasn't that my opinion of him suddenly changed on a dime with this knowledge, per se. It was simply that I now could see how superficial my hatred of him had always been. My accusations flimsily-based vitriol that I had projected onto him rather than myself. I realized then that I have never truly hated the boy. I have hated myself, and my mistakes, and my regrets. I did hate James Potter. That is undeniably true, and so I did nearly convince myself to hate Harry at times. But that was never for him, but for someone I thought him related to.

I am sick at the loss of time. All of his childhood. I never had the chance to raise him…only now that he has reached adulthood do I realize he has been mine all along. I can't help my anger at Albus. Despite Lily's pleas, could he not have done something differently? I can't help but feel that his machinations for the war led him to keep this knowledge from me longer, in an attempt to mould Harry as he would.

I became determined, then, that Harry would not stand up to Voldemort alone. His childhood had been literally ripped away. I didn't know much (though that is changing, and I intend to fully exhaust the topic soon), but I had heard tell that Harry disliked his muggle relatives. I remembered Petunia, of course, and so this didn't surprise me, overmuch. But this was another thing I had simply shoved to the side in an attempt not to see Harry as himself. But I would not let him go to the very end of the battle alone. Even if my efforts did not yield much of a difference in the long-run or in the outcome of the battle, the thought of Harry bravely pushing ahead, putting himself on the line like that. It reminded me of how alone he must always have felt. I would not let him feel that way much longer.

Naricissa's and Draco's defection was heartening, though I regret that Lucius was killed before having the chance to reform. But he was likely too far gone. He had done too much, and enjoyed what he did too much. But he did care for his family. Of that, I am sure. So perhaps the way he died, protecting his son from Voldemort, was the most honorable way his life could have ended at this point. Certainly that way was better than rotting in Azkaban.

My year as Headmaster was hell, but at the same time, little flames of hope had begun. Narcissa and Draco's change of heart…and Harry…

Whatever I did, no matter how busy I was keeping the students as safe as possible, my thoughts continued to return to the boy. And the more I thought about him, the more sure I became that Harry had truly never warranted my scorn. I delved into research, to find another way to rid him of the Horcrux…

And with the Malfoys' help, I was able to deliver the sword to Harry in the Forest of Dean. When he vanished under the freezing cold water overlong, I felt a panic like I had not felt in a great deal of time. Acting with uncharacteristic impulsiveness, I plunged in after him and carried him out with the sword.

The boy seemed so frail. So small. Much younger than his 17 years. I could almost imagine it hadn't been quite so long we had missed together. Perhaps he was still just beginning Hogwarts. Perhaps he was still young enough to forgive me. I pushed such selfish thoughts away. Caring for him was more important. I ripped the Horcrux from him and gazed in horror at the burned flesh on his chest. Just how long the child had been wearing the thing was anyone's guess. I applied burn salve and another of my own creation to repel dark magic to his chest after casting warming charms. I allowed myself to care for him and hold him, knowing that he would never allow me to do such were he conscious.

It was harder than I would like to admit to leave him that night, but thereafter I made sure to trail after the boy, to protect him from the shadows (more than I had thus far).

I would watch him from the shadows, though I wished I could do more.

But when Nagini bit me, even though I had taken the anti-venin as I had been wont to do recently, I did not want to die with the truth…and so even though it was perhaps cruel, I added my more recent memories in regards to Harry on top of those I had already resolved to give him.

I woke in the hospital wing to my mark burning. Voldemort was calling…and I could feel his location in every fiber of my being. It made me sick. I disillusioned myself and flooed to the Headmaster's office before Poppy had the chance to realize I was awake. I made quick work of taking back the memories still left in the pensieve (even sparing an instant to feel a twinge of annoyance at the boy for so carelessly leaving them out)…

But once they were back with me, I could almost feel Harry calling to me. The memories of my revelations and feelings as a father were so fresh that I felt renewed determination to end this once and for all. Using a little trick I'd learned from the Dark Lord, I flew from the window, pausing only stop that damn snake from finishing off Longbottom. Once beyond the apparition wards, I followed the aching call in my arm to Voldemort's circle of fools.

What followed, I can hardly believe. It is more stark and painful than any of my numerous hope-filled dreams these past 20 or so years-dreams which never fail to give way to depression when I wake to find myself alone.

But perhaps, as I watch my son, grinning casually and looking so very comfortable in his skin, cross the great hall to indulge in some adolescent nonsense with his Gryffindor friends (though I must admit myself having enjoyed his dealings with Draco)...and he throws me a subtle smirk and a nod of acknowledgement... As I see those beloved eyes, now so wonderfully unobstructed, and the way they hold mine for a moment too long to have been simply my imagination, I allow myself to hope.

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><p>I've never written from Draco's point of view before…How did I do? I thought that might be a good way of getting his story across.<p>

Anyhoo, let me know what you think! There will be an Epilogue, Part 2, as well (if not more...).

Thanks~

tess4aria


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